


Asteroid Docking Procedures

by JumpingJackFlash



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Xeno, and by underage i mean sixteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumpingJackFlash/pseuds/JumpingJackFlash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three years out of contact, John and Karkat can finally talk again. The conversation doesn't go quite the way they were expecting. Now the three weeks it will take the golden ship to match velocities with the asteroid seem like three million. Why are the laws of physics so unkind to desperate teenaged boys?</p><p>[an antidote to sadstuck! if this is not the fluffiest, most sentimental xenoporn ever written, i will eat my writekind specibus.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. T Minus 20 Days And Counting

**Author's Note:**

> [this just came to me like BOOM suddenly as i was about to go to bed and kept me up all night, so i have no clue how good it is, or precisely where it's going. except that it is going for 'touching naughties' because roachpatrol commands it and i'm secretly a sub. it's inspired by a prompt on the kinkmeme but i departed so far from it there's no point even linking it.
> 
> also it feels weird using an 'underage' warning for sixteen-year-olds, but them's the rules. so i guess this is the caveat. no shota. :D]

    The mouse arrow shivers on the screen because your hand is shaking.  
  
    For three years, 'carcinoGeneticist' has been a gray ghost in your chumroll. Seven hours ago, the golden ship dropped back into normal space, and one by one the names began to light up. But no Karkat. All you can get out of Dave Prime is that Karkat is okay and knows everyone can talk again. He's just 'busy'.  
  
    Busy. It hurts. You thought you were friends. And considering some of the things the others have been telling you... well, you really would've liked to hear it from him, that's all.  
  
    But thirty seconds ago 'carcinoGeneticist' came online, and now your mouse hand is trembling like you've overdosed on caffeine. Of course you're going to click it. Of course! But what will you say? The cheery greetings you'd planned before that inexplicable silence sound strange in your head now.  
  
    Around the one-minute mark, he takes the initiative.  
  
 **CG: Thanks for the bucket.**  
  
    You burst out laughing, tension draining away. That's the last thing you expected to read.  
  
 **EB: haha, sorry about that! i forgot you guys have that thing about buckets until after jade already threw it!**  
 **CG: You cannot be fucking serious. I spent a sweep and a half talking myself into congratulating you for what I was certain was the crowning prank of your desolate comedy career, and you didn't even intend the joke?**  
 **EB: what happened to the allcaps?**  
 **CG: It was ridiculous. I stopped.**  
 **EB: you just... stopped? i thought all you guys had to have typing quirks, like it was a rule or something.**  
 **CG: This is not how I pictured this conversation going.**  
 **EB: me neither, honestly.**  
 **EB: i guess i kinda forgot how awkward we used to get.**  
 **CG: 'Awkward' is the emotional sewer in which I swim these nights, thanks to the hormonally overclocked moron parade I share this asteroid with, and I thought I'd grown inured to it, but somehow I find your particular brand of dumbassitude inexplicably refreshing.**  
 **CG: By which I mean, I'm glad to hear from you again.**  
 **EB: oh hell yes, me too.**  
 **EB: i mean jeez.**  
 **EB: karkat, i missed the fuck out of you!**  
 **CG: I missed you too. There, I admitted it.**  
 **EB: haha, was someone twisting your arm?**  
 **CG: Gamzee has me so moirail-whipped he only has to look at me sideways and I start puking friendship radiation all over myself. It's disgusting.**  
 **EB: well, tell him thanks from me!**  
 **CG: Not a chance.**  
 **EB: look, can i ask you something?**  
 **CG: No.**  
  
    You were this close to backing out of asking, but at this your resistance vanishes and suddenly you're all for it. Wow, you forgot how he used to shake you up, make you surprise yourself, keep you honest. It is so _good_ to talk to him again.  
  
 **EB: too bad, i'm going to anyway, so there!**  
 **EB: why did it take you so long to come online? it's like you didn't want to talk to me or something.**  
 **CG: I was kidding, genius. Of course you can ask me anything --**  
 **CG: Oh for crying out loud.**  
 **CG: Still an idiot, I see.**  
 **CG: Since Sollux jumped ship, I'm the closest thing we have to a system administrator. Sending data over such ludicrous distances between two objects moving at such ridiculous speeds is not a trivial computing problem.**  
 **EB: oh!**  
 **EB: but dave prime was talking to me like five minutes after we dropped into normal space.**  
 **CG: Did the conversation seem a little scrambled to you?**  
 **EB: we had some connection glitches, yeah...**  
 **CG: Because the server was dropping packets like a slimefish lusus in a wet redfruit tree. I've been banging my head against the system ever since. And frankly I kind of suck at it.**  
 **EB: you can't suck THAT bad, karkat. it seems mostly stable now!**  
 **CG: Thank you for that faint praise, fucknub.**  
 **EB: hee! you're welcome!**  
 **CG: If only I didn't have to wait three more weeks to find out if your giggle is even more irritating in person.**  
 **EB: i assure you, it is! i can send you an audio file if you really want.**  
 **CG: No, you can't. No video either. The timing ends up scrambled and I haven't figured out why yet. Text and still pics, that's all we can do right now.**  
 **EB: that gives me an idea! hang on a second.**  
  
    You snap a webcam pic. Then you delete it. It's totally unacceptable! You dash into your bathroom to wash and dry your face, fix your hair, and try out a few expressions in the mirror. Maybe you should bring your computer in here to take the picture, the light's so much better. The light at your desk makes you look greasy and pasty. God, why didn't you cut your hair when you had time? It's shaggy and horrible now, it's not the cute kind of moppy, it's practically seventies cop hair, all you need are mutton chop sideburns and a mustache. Not that you can grow those yet -- oh fuck, the dark fuzz on your upper lip looks like dirt or something, and your experiments with shaving have so far led to more bloodshed than success, so it's not a great time for another attempt --  
  
    Time. Right. Karkat is sitting on the other end of that unstable communication line, and you no longer know him well enough to guess whether he'll wait for you.  
  
    The picture you send him isn't as terrible as the first one; at least you're not shiny. You're still way too pale, though, and your hair looks like -- well, you should've cut it, that's all.  
  
    Seconds tick past. Did he get tired of waiting and wander off?  
  
 **EB: karkat? did you get the picture?**  
 **EB: hello....?**  
 **EB: ..............................?**  
  
    He goes idle.  
  
    You look at the picture again. Oh shit. You have a zit on your cheek. It's so obvious. How did you not see it before? You should've photoshopped it out. But that would've been pretty obvious too, and way more pathetic than leaving it in, right? Maybe Karkat won't know what it is. Do trolls get zits?  
  
    You switch windows. Dave will help you chill out, he always does. You mean Davesprite. Gotta get used to calling him that again now that Dave Prime is back in your life.  
  
 **EB: dude, i just sent karkat a webcam pic and now he's not answering.**  
 **EB: is that some kind of deadly insult to trolls or something?**  
 **FA: who knows man reunions are awkward as fuck**  
 **FA: i changed my handle to featheryasshole to avoid confusion and now other me is ripping me a new one**  
 **FA: all like were both dave and since when do daves slag themselves down or whatever**  
 **FA: im like**  
 **FA: since its funny**  
 **FA: what happened to you on that rock man**  
 **FA: is it roid rage**  
 **EB: cute.**  
 **FA: john he didnt get it**  
 **EB: !**  
 **FA: i know right**  
 **EB: you tell him about the nose piercing yet?**  
 **FA: its all for naught if he lost his sense of humor maybe i should just take it out i mean fuck this is disturbing as shit**  
 **FA: all jade will say is itll be okay youll see**  
 **FA: plus shout poles and smiles galore of course**  
 **FA: is that in the girlfriend handbook or something be uselessly reassuring at all times even when your loverbird is busting an aneurysm over genuine real fucked up shit**  
 **FA: cuz it kinda stifles dialogue**  
 **EB: shoulda stuck with me, man. i tell it like it is.**  
 **FA: dont start in on me now that was only for science and also werent you just being insecure over karkat not appreciating your greasy unshaven mug enough**  
 **EB: enough? try at all! or even replying! he's been gone fifteen minutes now!**  
 **FA: oh woe fifteen minutes god forbid he have to take a leak**  
 **EB: i know, i'm just being a moron.**  
 **FA: correct**  
 **EB: oh, he's back!**  
 **FA: go get im tiger**  
 **EB: shut up, cheeto face. <>**  
 **FA: i bet were gonna catch hell for using those now its probably racist for humans to call quadrants but whatevs who gives a fuck here you go <>**  
 **EB: haha i know, i reread karkat's explanation of quadrants ten million times but i'm still pretty sure i'm missing something.**  
 **FA: didnt he come back why are you still talking to me**  
 **EB: he's not saying anything, he just un-idled.**  
 **EB: waitasec, file transfer incoming!**  
 **FA: tell me its a myspace emo mirror shot thatd be too perfect**  
 **EB: i don't know yet. this network is so fucking slow.**  
 **FA: well we are still going a significant fraction of the speed of light thats gotta mess with the bandwidth**  
 **EB: ...**  
 **FA: what**  
 **EB: holy shit.**  
 **FA: what**  
 **EB: oh my god.**  
 **FA: what already**  
 **FA: fine asshole tell me when youre done flipping out i have an otherself to argue with anyway**  
  
    You can't be bothered to look away from the picture Karkat sent you long enough to answer.  
  
    He's not even trying to look cool or sexy or badass. He's just staring straight into the camera with a vaguely irritated expression. Despite that -- or because of it? -- he's got the most amazing face you've ever seen. Your mind scrambles in vain for words to apply. Not handsome, pretty, cute, nothing like that; too bony, pointy chin and pointy nose and eyes so deep-set he looks a bit ill, eyebrows too heavy and lips too full for all that pointiness, _strange_... but _intense_. Compelling. Transfixing.  
  
    You only caught the briefest glance three years ago, and the impression you got then was of a waifish little sad gray elf. The blunt red-orange horns, you were expecting. The yellow scleras, you either didn't know about or forgot. But you're damn sure his irises weren't fiery stoplight red. Its hard to look away from them, and when you do manage, you don't get any farther than his knife jaw or swollen-looking dark-gray lips or the chaotic tumble of his hair before the red pulls you back.  
  
    Jesus, he's _blinding_.  
  
    The only thing that can get you to page away from that image, it turns out, is Karkat finally messaging you back.  
  
 **CG: Having wasted far too long being a massive coward, I'm now back to fess up and take my medicine. And yes, I thanked Gamzee for you, though you'll probably want to take it back in a minute here.**  
 **CG: I haven't forgotten about your human mutation where you can only feel mating fondness for girls, so don't think I'm hitting on you. This is just a simple compliment, okay?**  
 **CG: You grew up cute.**  
 **CG: Oh fine. My shambling landfill of a moirail insists that I put back the word I backspaced. You grew up gorgeous.**  
 **EB: what,**  
 **EB: n**  
 **EB: why would**  
  
    You take your hands off the keyboard before you can drop any more incriminating sentence fragments. He has to be joking. Right? But that would be such a mean joke, and Karkat's surly and sarcastic but he's not _mean_. Or at least he wasn't when you knew him before. For a few short days. Shit, he has to be joking.  
  
 **CG: There's no need to flip your shit, Egbert. I told you I'm not hitting on you.**  
 **CG: Just say 'thanks' and move on.**  
 **EB: are you joking or not?**  
 **CG: About what?**  
 **EB: gosh, you've really flustered me! if you were kidding you can say so, you totally got me.**  
 **CG: Kidding about WHAT, for fuck's sake?**  
 **CG: Oh.**  
 **CG: God, no. I cannot deal with you of all people blathering self-deprecation and fishing for reassurance.**  
 **CG: I'm not going to repeat myself, so deal with it.**  
  
    He meant it. Wow, your face must be like a tomato right now, with how hot it feels. Maybe trolls have different aesthetic standards or something? Because you're pretty sure you look like a huge dork. But he's right, fishing for reassurance is not cool.  
  
 **EB: then... thank you!**  
 **EB: you're**  
 **EB: well, i can't find the right word...**  
 **CG: Don't bother. It was my opinion, not a demand for reciprocation.**  
 **EB: hush, this is important! i just don't have the vocabulary!**  
 **EB: you already used gorgeous and i don't want to sound like i'm just echoing, plus it's not exactly**  
 **EB: okay, the thing is**  
 **EB: i couldn't stop looking, and when i was looking i kind of couldn't breathe very well**  
 **EB: and now i have your picture tucked under a bunch of windows because otherwise your eyes kind of**  
 **EB: jesus karkat you're like a bullet to the head okay?**  
 **CG: ...**  
 **CG: I honestly cannot tell whether that's a compliment or not.**  
 **EB: it is!**  
 **EB: and you can totally hit on me if you want to.**  
 **EB: turns out i wasn't quite right about the heterosexual thing.**  
 **CG: Oh.**  
 **EB: um, but you probably have all kinds of quadrants already, huh?**  
 **EB: this has definitely gone past awkward and is diving nose-down for mortifying.**  
 **EB: and if i hadn't been wondering for three years if we'd still be friends when we met again and**  
 **EB: i guess**  
 **EB: for at least a year now if maybe more than friends was an option**  
 **EB: okay maybe longer than that but don't tell dave i was thinking about it while we were still messing around because i think he took it more seriously than i did**  
 **EB: davesprite i mean**  
 **EB: anyway what i'm getting at is i wish i had the option of acting like a kid right now and pretending i didn't say anything, but it has been way too fucking long and**  
 **EB: god, how much time will we have between docking with the asteroid and fighting noir? and how many of us are going to survive that fight?**  
 **EB: so yeah. cards on the table.**  
 **EB: karkat, will you go out with me?**  
  
    You slump back in your chair with an explosive sigh, shoving your hands through your hair. You can't believe you said it. Holy shit, you really said that. God, it's taking him a long time to reply. Of course, when someone drops a bomb like that, you suppose anyone would want to think it over. Anyone but you, anyway. When Dave suggested your experimentation phase, you immediately shrugged and said sure, why not. And when he told you he was having messy romance feelings for Jade and would therefore have to stop fooling around with you, you instantly clapped him on the back and wished him luck. That's the sum total of your romantic experience right there. It's probably not typical.  
  
    After five interminable minutes, you can't stand it anymore. You have to press for an answer.  
  
 **EB: karkat?**  
 **EB: please don't leave me hanging.**  
 **CG: I'm trying to figure out what you're asking, but none of these self-satisfied shitdippers will fucking EXPLAIN anything. So I guess I just have to swallow the tattered rag that used to be my pride and admit my stupid ignorance.**  
 **CG: Neither of us can go out of anything, Egbert.**  
 **CG: I assume you're not asking me to become a blood slushie in the cold vacuum of space.**  
 **CG: It looked like a romantic solicitation of some kind, but WHAT kind? I'm really trying not to flip out on you for confusing me like this but**  
 **CG: Look, just explain.**  
 **EB: um. the human kind?**  
 **EB: didn't dave and rose explain human romance at all?**  
 **CG: Strider and Lalonde have adapted to the quadrant system. I thought you knew that.**  
 **EB: no way. seriously? rose told me she's dating kanaya, but she didn't use the troll word for it. and i don't even know for sure if dave is dating terezi. he's cagey.**  
 **CG: Not only is Strider Terezi's matesprit, he's also Gamzee's kismesis.**  
 **EB: oh my god, that's awesome. i'm going to give him so much shit about that.**  
 **CG: He also refers to Lalonde as his moirail sometimes, but he seems to use moirail and sister interchangeably, so I suspect he has no damn clue what he means.**  
 **CG: Gamzee tells me he's pretty satisfactory at blackrom though.**  
 **CG: Shut your fangs, assclown, that's fair play after you made me type 'gorgeous'.**  
 **EB: is he reading over your shoulder? i'm not sure how i feel about that.**  
 **CG: No, he just demands an explanation whenever I start to hyperventilate.**  
 **CG: Enough dithering. Just answer my question.**  
 **EB: i don't know if i can! i sure don't hate you, but isn't the heart quadrant based on pity?**  
 **EB: i don't feel sorry for you, i think you're awesome. i always thought you were pretty cool and you obviously only got better.**  
 **EB: i mean, i do sympathize with your troubles, if that's what red pity means? i don't understand it, i'm sorry!**  
 **EB: oh god, i'm fucking this up completely, aren't i.**  
 **CG: No... not really.**  
 **CG: So you're saying you sympathize with me, and you also find me**  
 **CG: attractive, shit this is embarrassing, I have never had so much trouble typing in my life.**  
 **EB: me neither, for what it's worth.**  
 **EB: the backspaces, they are flying like neutrinos up in here, you don't even know.**  
 **EB: but yes. so fucking attractive.**  
 **EB: ugh, how do i type with my hands over my face.**  
 **CG: Stop being adorable, it's making it hard as hell to think clearly about this shit.**  
 **EB: well, there's your problem right there. NOBODY can think clearly about this shit. :D**  
 **CG: You have a point.**  
 **CG: Fuck, who am I kidding. Even if we're talking about totally different emotions I still want to try it.**  
 **EB: awesome.**  
 **EB: sloppy makeouts and all?**  
 **CG: In public. I owe these jackwipes some payback.**  
 **EB: haha, that sounds like there's a funny story or two you could tell me...**  
 **CG: Where do I even fucking begin.**  
  



	2. T Minus 12 Days And Counting

  
**EB: but it looks so ridiculous!**  
 **CG: No. I forbid it with all the forbiddingness of the bossy jerk you know I am.**  
 **EB: haha, well i guess i feel totally obedient now. not!**  
 **CG: I'm serious, though. Please don't.**  
 **EB: it'll look so much better, i promise. jade is surprisingly good at cutting hair for someone who barely trims her own.**  
 **CG: No. Not before I get my hands in it.**  
 **EB: ... wow.**  
 **EB: okay. i'm convinced. the hair stays.**  
 **EB: gosh, i'm blushing so hard just thinking about that.**  
 **EB: and i want to retaliate but i don't know what gets you. i'm pretty sure dave was messing with me when he said touching your horns would be like grabbing your junk.**  
 **CG: Every day is opposite day in Striderland, yes. They're not sex toys. They detect vibration and psi and magnetism and so forth.**  
 **EB: wow, handy!**  
 **EB: so what do they feel like?**  
 **EB: are they warm?**  
 **EB: are they hard or soft?**  
 **EB: are they sensitive at all? like ears?**  
 **EB: what would you do if i licked one?**  
 **CG: Oh my God, Egbert, stop. This is a public terminal I'm using.**  
 **EB: ooh, did i make you squirm? so cute!**  
 **CG: I do not squirm. I am a mighty pillar of calm dignity.**  
 **EB: speaking of mighty pillars...**  
 **CG: EGBERT NO OH MY GOD**  
 **EB: haha, i wish i could see your face right now.**  
 **CG: You really don't.**  
 **CG: Well, you probably do, but only because you're crazy.**  
 **EB: crazy for you. <3**  
 **CG: The insanity is mutual. <3**  
  
    "Aww, ain't you just the cutest little flushbuddies!" Gamzee crows, draping his arms around you from behind your chair and snuggling his face in next to yours. "When you up and planning to tell him your horns are ticklish?"  
  
    "Sometime around not-happening-o'clock on the negative-first of Never. And don't even think of spilling the secret yourself, either."  
  
    "Not a problem, brother, he can be all finding that out for himself." He gives your cheek a grinning nuzzle. "What's that picture? Is that him? Pop it up top there and let me feast my ganderbulbs on what's got my palebro smiling more'n I ever seen him do."  
  
    You grimace, because you can't keep smiling once it's been pointed out, no matter how well you know it's a foolish reflex, but you enlarge the latest photo without complaint. John sent it to show you how much he thinks he needs a haircut. He ruffled his hair into his face and stretched out one of the thick, soft waves to show you how it comes down to his mouth when straightened. He's laughing, like he almost always is, and between the heavy black locks half-hiding his glasses you can catch a glimpse of bright blue eyes shining with the sheer joy of being alive.  
  
    "That is one happy motherfucker," Gamzee says approvingly. "Hey, how about you work that camera magic and send Giggles one of us? He ain't never seen me yet, right?"  
  
    "He saw you for a second when they sent the bucket letter," you say absently while you bring up the camera frame. "I'm sure he's had nightmares ever since." Taking pictures of yourself is such a chore. Even when you try to look pleasant, you always end up with a photo of a grotesque villain thinking bloody murder thoughts. It's not your fault. You just have angry eyebrows.  
  
    "Man, I hope not! He know I'm not in that bad place no more? I'd hate for your sweet lil' redheart to be scared of me. Quit messing," he adds with amused impatience, reaches past you, and clicks the 'take picture' button.  
  
    "Don't. My eyes were half closed."  
  
    "Where's that smile you been doing so much of lately, brother?"  
  
    "Stop!"  
  
    "Just think about that boy of yours all laughing for you. There you go!"  
  
    "Gamzee, stop pressing the button!"  
  
    "Naw, I think I'll just up and take --"  
  
    "Gamzee!"  
  
    "-- couple more here --"  
  
    "Nf, get off, you're squashing me, you're like a superdense singularity of stupid."  
  
    "-- just up and send 'em all, why not --"  
  
    "Gamzee, no!"  
  
    "There you go, all took care of!" He stops folding you double and lets you get your hands back on the keyboard, but the damage is done. He's already sent seven images to John, and in all but one of them you either look gruesomely ugly or you're just a flailing blur.  
  
    There's one, though, where you're grinning crookedly up at Gamzee while he laughs into the camera, and maybe that one's not so bad. If you could've sent just that one...  
  
    "Thanks a lot, douchefreighter. Next time I want someone to stop pitying me romantically and decide to make a mascot of me instead, I'll know to call in the expert."  
  
    "Shoosh. Let the brother speak his own words. Don't be putting trouble down where there ain't none." He taps the message indicator for your chat with John, which is blinking for attention. You bat his hand aside in annoyance and bring up the window.  
  
 **EB: you have the cutest smile, karkat!**  
 **EB: wow, i can't get over how cute you are!**  
 **EB: is gamzee still there? tell him thanks! and he looks like a really nice guy.**  
 **EB: was he the one wearing clown makeup back then?**  
 **CG: He's not religious anymore. It's a bit of a sensitive topic.**  
 **EB: oops, sorry!**  
 **EB: well, now i see your ulterior motive: you want to surround yourself with hair. that's quite a mane he's got there!**  
 **CG: It would be so much worse if I didn't comb it for him.**  
 **EB: aw, that's sweet of you. is that a moirail thing, or just a you thing?**  
 **CG: It's a 'it gets old alchemizing you new combs when you break them' thing.**  
 **CG: I might make him comb his own from now on, though, as punishment for sending you all those dreadful pictures.**  
 **EB: but you guys look so happy! :D**  
 **EB: i'm so glad you have someone who can make you smile. when i get there i hope i can too.**  
 **CG: John, I**  
 **CG: You**  
 **CG: already do.**  
  
    Gamzee's fingers dig soothingly into your shoulders, and he chuckles softly. "Breathe, man. That really hit you that hard?"  
  
    Your voice comes out in a gravelly whisper. "I don't know how I'm going to last. I want to climb through the screen. I'm turning into an idiot, Gamz."  
  
    "Naw, brother, you just flushed like a motherfucker."  
  
    "Yes, and it's making me so _stupid_."  
  
    "How about you be up and telling him that?"  
  
 **CG: You make me stupid, John.**  
 **EB: oh no? that doesn't sound like a good thing!**  
 **CG: I know perfectly fucking well there's absolutely nothing any of us can do to bring our vehicles together any faster**  
 **CG: Well, not without destroying them both. You know what I mean.**  
 **CG: And yet I can't stop contemplating idiotic ways to get to you sooner.**  
 **EB: like what?**  
 **EB: how idiotic?**  
 **CG: Like trying to hack a transportalizer to use this comm line.**  
 **CG: Which would almost certainly deliver me as a fine red mist, if it doesn't just convert me to pure energy and nuke the asteroid.**  
 **EB: don't do that!**  
 **CG: I'm not going to. So it's perfectly absurd how I can't stop thinking about it.**  
 **EB: i know what you mean, though.**  
 **EB: jade could teleport me there, but she isn't sure she could get back, and no one else can steer the ship properly, so it would probably either miss and be lost in timespace or crash.**  
 **EB: of course i don't want that to happen!**  
 **EB: but it's so hard not to bug her about it. like maybe if we think really hard we can come up with a way...**  
 **EB: argh. how much longer?????**  
 **CG: Twelve days.**  
 **EB: damn it. i hoped my count was off.**  
 **CG: I made a countdown app. It's in the corner of my screen right now.**  
 **EB: oh god. you're such a dork.**  
 **CG: Shut up.**  
 **EB: ... can you send me the app?**  
 **CG: That grin you inexplicably like? I'm doing it right now.**  
 **EB: awesome. <3**  
 **CG: There. It should self-install. Now go to bed.**  
 **EB: dun wanna.**  
 **CG: You told me you couldn't stay awake anymore almost an hour ago.**  
 **EB: but. ummm. excuses. and stuff.**  
 **CG: Don't make me nag you. That's your moirail's job.**  
 **CG: Do I have to tell him to make you go to bed?**  
 **EB: nooooo... lol**  
 **EB: so you're not mad i call him that?**  
 **CG: For the zillionth time, no, it's fine.**  
 **EB: oh yeah, i forgot i already asked you about it.**  
 **CG: GO THE FUCK TO BED, YOU BEAUTIFUL IMBECILE.**  
 **EB: i love you.**  
 **CG: And I pity you so hard my compassion would pierce subspace and kiss you senseless if only the data stream could handle its immensity, now get on your human cushion platform and put your human fabric square over you and GODDAMN SLEEP ALREADY.**  
 **EB: holy shit you're the best thing in the universe. okay, i'm going.**  
 **EB: but just so you know...**  
 **EB: i'm going to dream about you.**  
  
 **ectoBiologist [EB] is now an idle chum -**  
  
    You close your eyes and lean back against Gamzee's chest, letting yourself imagine for a moment what John must be doing. When you used to watch his childhood, back when Trollian's timeline features still worked, he slept in soft baggy pants and a t-shirt. Does he still? You like to think he doesn't bother with the shirt anymore. You haven't dared ask him for pictures of anything but his face yet, but what you've seen of his shoulders and forearms... well, he hasn't gone soft on that ship. He's muscled almost like a troll. More so than Strider, far more than you -- fuck, when are you going to get your goddamn growth spurt, and why does he find your scrawny-necked immaturity attractive, anyway? -- but not as much as Gamzee, and he's almost certainly not as tall as Gamzee either. Will you have to tilt your head up to kiss him, or down?  
  
    "I believe Windy Bro ain't the only brother needing a little shuteye," Gamzee purrs fondly.  
  
    "I can make it another day, easy."  
  
    "Just relax yourself a while, then," he coaxes. He long ago gave up ordering you to sleep when you don't want to, though you know it hurts him to know having him there when you wake doesn't make the dreams any easier to bear. "Wouldn't mind a few hours in that pillow pile myself."  
  
    "Not the pillows. I fall asleep too easily in the pillows."  
  
    "How about them rainbow juggleballs then? You know how I love to look at all them colors."  
  
    "Fine," you sigh heavily, as if it's a chore, even though that actually sounds kind of nice. You let him help you up, but you punch him when he tries to carry you. Just because he's getting highblood huge already doesn't mean he gets to tote you around like a doll.  
  
    The juggleball pile is Strider's fault. It seems he told Gamzee about a toy for human wigglers called a ball pit, in which they like to burrow, roll around, hide, and accidentally step on each other. Gamzee couldn't rest until he'd obtained one. According to Strider the balls are supposed to be hollow plastic, almost weightless, so you can lie at the bottom of the pit and still breathe easily, but no one had anything like that, so Gamzee used velvet juggling balls filled with sand. They weigh a ton. Burrowing under them would be suicidal. Lying on top of them is surprisingly pleasant, though, like a cobblestone beach minus the water and grit.  
  
    Also, you've extracted a promise from Gamzee never to pail Strider in the juggleball pile, which is not a guarantee the pillow pile shares.  
  
    Gamzee sprawls out with a sigh and a wriggle. You toe off your shoes and climb in to join him. You tuck in under his chin, and he wraps his long arms around you. "I remember when you were hardly taller than me," you mumble.  
  
    "Kinda wish I didn't hafta get all hugelike. One of these nights I'mma snap a horn on them doorways what keep getting littler all the time."  
  
    "Be careful for a few more days, and then..." You trail off. None of you are really sure what will happen if you win your battle. Your prize universe already exists, after all, and you're not in it. If the humans make one, will it have a place for you? And will that place have Gamzee-sized doorways?  
  
    Will you and John be able to stay together?  
  
    "What's up and bothering you, brother?"  
  
    "What makes you think something's bothering me?"  
  
    "Cuz something always is," he chuckles. The rumble of his chest under your ear is immensely comforting. "Never knew such a brother for digging up trouble where there don't have to be none."  
  
    You make a vague protesting noise. He works his long fingers into your hair and starts scratching gently. You try to resist for pride's sake, but it's not long before the rhythmic drag of his claws has you emitting the contentment vibrations the humans call 'purring'. They think it's funny. God, John is going to laugh at you if he hears you doing this. His pity's going to turn platonic, he's going to start treating you like a pet animal...  
  
    "I know you love being mad, but don't let them worries go stale. Let 'em out and then you can get new ones."  
  
    At that, you have to laugh a little despite yourself. "Shut up, assclown. Fine. I might be brooding a little. But it's not a big thing. I don't even want to raise a caution flag over this, because I know everyone else has been worrying about it for so much longer."  
  
    "About what?"  
  
    "What happens after the fight? What happens if we win?"  
  
    " _When_ we win, brother."  
  
    "Gamz, don't. With you, at least, when we're jamming, don't make me have to act more confident than I am."  
  
    "Sorry, palebro." He curls down to kiss your forehead, then resumes scratching your scalp. "It don't bother me so much, but then, I ain't got nothing flushed going on. Strider's one hateful motherfucker, and I sure would be bummed to lose a rival like him, but as long as I got you I'll be okay. Could be other folks are a bit fussed, though. Them fine shiny matesisters especially, they sure do love their drama."  
  
    You sigh. "Exactly. They've been together almost since they met. And John and I will have, what, a few days? Weeks, at most? If we have to split up, mostly what we're losing is potential. It hardly seems fair for me to start wailing about it now."  
  
    "Won't be much of a win if we can't all go together."  
  
    "Yeah." Your eyes sag shut. You're not going to sleep, you're just resting your ganderbulbs for a bit. They feel like they've been sanded. "There's one thing I'm _not_ worried about, though."  
  
    "Mm?"  
  
    "You remember how I used to say I was glad I didn't have anyone in my flushed quadrant because worrying about someone else would distract me in battle?"  
  
    "Mhm."  
  
    Your fingers curl in his shirt, claws pricking through. "I was wrong. I'm going to fight so much harder knowing he's counting on me."  
  
    "That's a miracle, my palebro, and so are you."  
  
    You want to say something about how odd it is for him to start talking about miracles after avoiding the word so long, but somehow you just never get around to it. By the time you realize you're falling asleep, it's too late, reality has already fragmented.  
  
    For once, though, you find yourself neither drifting through dreambubbles nor toyed with by horrors. Your dream is only a dream, safely contained within your own thinkpan. The John you're kissing is just a figment of your imagination, just a projection of your hopes, but within the dream you believe everything. Let your longing off the leash, stop trying to act mature, erupt in emotion, babbling what wouldn't even be words in the waking world. He laughs at you even while he answers in kind.  
  
    Eventually the unpleasant lucidity of your usual dreams comes knocking, but just before the John of your imagination vanishes, you look past his sweet, joyful face and see a fresh wilderness like Alternia and Earth combined. A place were you can all be together.  
  
    When you wake, you feel much more rested and less brainraped than you usually do after a two-hour nap. Even though the horrorterrors made their inevitable thinkpan-melting effort to communicate, the image of that happy ending stayed with you. You don't expect it to happen. But maybe you can hope for it.


	3. T Minus 5 Days And Counting

Head wrapped in a towel and glasses half steamed up, you plunk down in front of your computer to see if Karkat is back. He's still idle, though. You try not to be too disappointed. You both have important things to do, you can't just be talking to each other all night and day. He isn't officially the leader over there anymore, he abicated to Rose when she arrived, but he's still the only one who cares about things like making sure people aren't too mired in dirty laundry and broken hardware to function. He's the one who alchemizes nutritious food and harrasses people into eating it when they've been subsisting on junk. He's the one who pesters the others into practicing their strifing. He's a natural born sergeant, and that's just one of the things you love him for.

    As for you, you've been swapping specibi with Davesprite and Jade for years, but it's only in the past few months you've all gotten really serious about it. You have to practice with both swords and rifles every single day or they get to assign you a forfeit. Then there's the way you've been playing figurehead for the consorts and carapaces, who seem to have a deep emotional need for a flashy, visible hero they don't have to actually listen to. And of course there's the practice you're pretty sure is the only really useful one: your wind powers. The things you can do with air now, you don't even have the words to describe. Much as you love your hammer, it seems kind of redundant when you can just make stuff explode.

    Between all these duties, you've only been able to spend three or four hours a day talking to Karkat. Which would've sounded like a lot once upon a time, but now it's not remotely enough. If only you weren't so far apart; if only you could share a room, see each other in passing, see each other's belongings lying around the place, this would be so much more tolerable. A few hours of conversation might even satisty you if you shared a bed, if you could hold him while you slept -- even without all the filthy things you want to do to him. Just... _contact_. Needing it and not having it is driving you fucking insane.

    While you're waiting, you scroll back up to read your last chat. You were talking about your respective moirails. The conversation got kind of heavy. Wow, you actually kind of didn't realize at the time just how heavy it got. The mere fact that it was Karkat you were talking to made it easier to take. Looking back on it now... _ouch_.

    You heard about all the deaths from Dave Prime the first day back in contact, but it was just a bare list of casualties. Mostly you fixated on the Vriska thing; particularly the fact that she'd already been dead when you said you were on your way over, and Karkat lied about it. He obviously did it to spare your feelings, but you would rather have been spared three years of ambivalence. All that time when you were simultaneously worried for her and scared of her, wondering if she'd just been making up that business about murdering thousands of troll kids -- or making up the bit about being sorry -- and whether you were heading for some troll romance thing you didn't understand, or maybe a friendship that would be good for you both -- or terrible for you both -- it was a huge sloppy mess in your head, basically. And if you'd known the truth you could've just been sad and moved on. Later, you learned the details of all those deaths from Rose, with particular attention to Gamzee's little rampage.

    While the others were trading murder for murder, Karkat stopped a killer by hugging him. That's pretty much the most beautiful thing you've ever heard.

    Of course something like that would have consequences. That's what you talked about yesterday. He told you how hard it had been to deal with Gamzee at first. Between the sopor addiction -- sopor sounds like some kind of opiate, as far as you can tell -- and the resulting withdrawal, and the murderclown religion, and the gruesome, humiliating death of the boy Gamzee cared for so much, and of course the guilt of having killed his friends, Gamzee was a mess. Karkat had to ride herd on him constantly to keep him from doing something stupid.

**CG: It was easier at first, because I was at the end of my rope as well, which gave him something to focus on, if that makes any sense. He was good for me. There were times I thought, hey, this isn't so bad, in fact this is sort of amazing.**   
**CG: Which thoughts I looked back on later with bleak glares and bitter laughter, cursing my past self for an idiot.**   
**CG: Because once I was no longer a blazing wall-eyed head trauma case myself, Gamzee had to think about Gamzee. Which is a fate I would not wish on my hypothetical kismesis, let alone the moirail I pity so much. But you know.**   
**CG: So it goes.**   
**CG: Welcome to life. It sucks, get used to it.**   
**EB: he was lucky to have you.**   
**CG: There were times he didn't think so. He would scream at me for saving him. Told me I should've just culled him. Like calming him down was the worst thing I'd ever done and he wanted to make me regret it.**   
**EB: but that was just the guilt talking.**   
**CG: You think I didn't know that? There was no fucking telling him ANYTHING when he got like that. I just had to lock him in and wait it out.**   
**CG: It got a little better when I figured out I could lock myself in with him.**   
**EB: you weren't afraid he'd hurt you.**   
**CG: Of course I fucking wasn't! He's my moirail, you idiot!**   
**EB: it wasn't a question.**   
**CG: Oh.**   
**CG: Sorry.**   
**CG: It's just**   
**CG: Kind of rough, talking about that time.**   
**CG: Nobody really thought I could help him, either. A lot of the time I didn't even think it myself. I was just too stubborn to quit.**   
**EB: he seems really happy now!**   
**CG: Yes.**   
**CG: It's worth every motherfucking minute of pain we went through.**   
**CG: I wouldn't take it back for anything.**   
**CG: I'm just saying. It wasn't easy.**   
**CG: You don't know what it's like, to pity someone so much and watch him tear himself apart.**   
**EB: maybe i do a little.**   
**CG: Do you? Is pity even what you feel for your human moirail equivalent, John? Using the word doesn't make you a troll.**   
**EB: maybe not now. i guess now mostly i just like him and i like how we help each other out.**   
**EB: but for the first like, six months? dude, he was a wreck.**   
**EB: he was the mayor of bummerville.**   
**EB: actually he just started out mayor of bummerville. by six months in he was dictator-for-life of depressistan and rolling out tanks to conquer suicidia.**   
**EB: he totally refused to admit to having any feelings at all, or wanting anything, or liking or not liking things, it was like he was trying to disappear.**   
**EB: he spent most of his time hiding. and i spent most of my time looking for him. just so when i found him he could flip some snappy don't-care one-liner at me and abscond again.**   
**EB: jade had these portals set up so the inhabitants of the lands could wander around and visit each other, so he'd go hide down there sometimes, and oh man, searching an entire PLANET for a dave who doesn't want to be found? jeez! even with the breeze helping!**   
**CG: Obviously you kept trying.**   
**EB: i kept succeeding, too! i wasn't going to let him win at losing!**   
**CG: I assume you reached him somehow, eventually, because he's certainly not depressed now. No one could fake having the energy to argue with Strider that much.**   
**EB: haha, i think they're enjoying it.**   
**EB: but yeah, i think he just figured out he couldn't out-stubborn me.**   
**EB: there wasn't a dramatic moment when he opened up to me and we hugged and cried or anything. he just got lazy about hiding from me, and eventually he stopped running away at all.**   
**EB: and then we talked about everything BUT his feelings for a long time. it was like the opposite of a feelings jam except that it secretly was one because we both knew what we were avoiding?**   
**EB: maybe i used that phrase wrong.**   
**CG: No...**   
**CG: No, I think maybe you have a pretty good grasp of moirallegiance after all.**   
**EB: except for the bit where we got, you know... physical for a while.**   
**CG: Moirallegiance is very physical. Where the hell did you get the impression it isn't?**   
**EB: don't be dense, karkat. i mean we were fucking.**   
**CG: Oh. Well, moirails don't usually take things all the way to the bucket, but some do help each other out sometimes. Particularly when one or both of them lacks concupiscent quadrants.**   
**EB: really? have you and gamzee done that?**   
**CG: Yes.**   
**EB: um. recently?**   
**CG: Oh yes, I am absolutely the kind of idiot who would bang my moirail while i'm wooing a human who's biologically predisposed to a one-quadrant system, because it has not occurred to me that he might consider it cheating and dump me like a putrefying corpse.**   
**CG: Also I enjoy pounding nails through my extremities and buffing my bulge with a belt sander. Pain is my favorite!**   
**EB: haha, jeez, it's not THAT big a deal.**   
**EB: i mean, i'm glad you're not. but i would've forgiven you.**   
**CG: Oh.**   
**CG: God. You really do pity me.**   
**EB: i keep telling you. <3**   
**CG: There are not enough text hearts in this computer to express my pity for you, Egbert. I will have to link another half dozen computers together and set them all to manufacturing lessthanthrees if I am to have any hope of communicating this feeling.**

    You lean your chin on your hand and smile fondly at that line. You run your fingertips along it as if you can reach through the data stream and touch him that way. You know perfectly well how silly and sentimental that is, but you do it anyway.

    He un-idles. You hurry to close the log and type a greeting, but he beats you to it.

**CG: Everyone wants to clean the compound and spruce it up for your party's arrival, and everyone has elaborate and impractical ideas for decorations and celebrations, and everyone is firmly convinced that by putting a few books away and swiping down half a table they've done their full share and the rest will somehow just... happen.**   
**CG: Tell me something good, John.**   
**CG: The only reason I'm not banging my head against a wall right now is because I assume you'd prefer my cranium undented.**   
**CG: I need some kind of good news.**   
**EB: um... i'm naked?**   
**CG: Sweet murdered mothergrub, please don't be lying, I can feel the foul mood beginning to lift already.**   
**EB: well, i'm wearing two towels.**   
**EB: actually, i don't think i need the one on my head anymore.**   
**EB: there, now i'm only wearing one towel.**   
**CG: Send me a picture, and my vascular pump is yours. Or any other organ of your choice.**   
**EB: please hold, your order is being processed. XD**   
**EB: okay, there you are.**   
**CG: I... have no words.**   
**EB: haha, jeez karkat, it's just me.**   
**CG: You say that as if 'just you' isn't the most glorious, delicious, divine -- ARGH why aren't you HERE this is excruciating I need to touch you RIGHT FUCKING NOW.**   
**EB: ... does that mean i made your mood worse instead of better?**   
**CG: NO.**   
**CG: God no.**   
**CG: I'm fucking flying.**   
**CG: I'm looking at you and I'm in freefall and I'm just repeating to myself, 'That is my matesprit. That gorgeous creature actually pities me. Somehow this is a real thing that's happening.'**   
**EB: wow, so much blushing going on over here!**   
**CG: Send me a picture of the blushing.**   
**EB: okay, but this is getting a bit one-sided here.**   
**EB: i want a pic of you with your shirt off.**   
**CG: Shit. No you don't. Really.**   
**EB: i really, really do.**   
**CG: No, no, no, and also no. I'm stringy and gross.**   
**EB: i would've said slim, or maybe lanky.**   
**EB: or rangy, which for some reason makes me think of cowboys.**   
**CG: It doesn't matter what word you use, the facts are the same.**   
**EB: the facts are dave sent me pics of everyone and there's one where you're leaning in a doorway looking surly with your arms crossed and dude, your legs are a mile long, and i want them wrapped around my waist.**   
**EB: face it, karkat, you're a sexy beast.**   
**CG: The noise I'm making cannot be rendered in text, but here is an approximation: aslkjhsdfglkjhf.**   
**EB: shirtless picture. now.**   
**CG: Fine, but only because I can't deny you anything.**   
**CG: There. You see what I mean. I look better with my clothes on.**   
**EB: oh god, i beg to differ.**   
**EB: i'm not licking my screen but it's a near thing.**   
**CG: I can't wait five more days, John. I can't. I'm going to die of frustration.**   
**EB: i knooooow, me too...**   
**EB: hey karkat?**   
**EB: when i get there do you want to have sex?**   
**CG: HOW COULD YOU IMAGINE FOR A MOMENT I MIGHT NOT WANT TO DEAR GOD JOHN WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU**   
**EB: awesome.**   
**EB: i better ask dave how interspecies sexytimes actually works.**   
**CG: Wait, why him?**   
**EB: i mean dp, not ds. because he's doing it with with two trolls.**   
**EB: and if i ask you we'll just end up cybering.**   
**CG: And... that's a bad thing how?**   
**EB: ooh. you have a point.**   
**EB: just a second.**

    Feeling a little self-conscious and a lot eager, you get up to lock your door. You pull the curtain over your porthole for good measure, just in case Davesprite is in one of his 'flying around the outside of the ship' moods. Then you sit back down and untuck your towel.

**EB: now i'm wearing zero towels.**   
**EB: tell me how you want me to touch you.**   
**CG: ASDFLJKDGSL <3333333**


	4. Zero Day

The golden ship is immense and silent, and it gleams. It seems absurd to 'land' it on the asteroid; it dwarfs the scattered buildings, and even though you calculated its landing clearance half a dozen times over, you're still afraid it's going to crush something. A part of you is afraid it will crush _you_ , no matter how you tell yourself you're safely out of the way even if something goes wrong.  
  
    "Goddamn, you are a jittery little motherfucker," Gamzee chuckles, squeezing your shoulder with the hand that's been resting there since you all came out to watch. "Just can't wait to see your flushbrother, huh?"  
  
    "More like I'm waiting for the Witch of Woofbeast to lose control of the thing and paint this hideous little rock with our guts," you grumble. In private you would've admitted the truth to him, but everyone is here. They don't need to hear how you can't shake the feeling something will happen to make sure you can't have John.  
  
    Because you want to see John so _badly_ , and nothing you want that much ever happens. It's not that you think you're cursed, that you're not allowed to be happy -- not anymore. That's adolescent self-pity and you refuse to indulge it. But what happiness you've found has been the kind that blindsides you without warning, not the kind you work for. Things like Gamzee growing from a painful wreck into the best moirail in the universe. Things like Strider and Lalonde being pretty tolerable, people you now consider friends, when by rights you all should've murdered each other in the first week. And maybe John pitying you falls into that category; you definitely didn't expect it when you started talking to him.  
  
    But now he's something you long for, something you ache for in your bones, and you can't help fearing he's therefore become impossible. So you argue silently with yourself -- scold yourself viciously for entertaining the thought that his part in your courtship was just a prank, or that he's somehow gotten himself killed in the three hours since you last talked -- while you watch the line of light under the ship's hull get narrower. And you tense up, and Gamzee can feel it in your shoulder.  
  
    "Naw," he drawls in that soothing rumble of his, "that fine sister knows right where she wants to up and set that shiny thing down, don't you worry yourself none. I seen you do that number magic your own self."  
  
    "I know, that's why I --" Your doubt is cut off by a clang you can feel through the soles of your feet as the ship touches down.  
  
    "See?" he chuckles.  
  
    You twist out from under his hand and take off running. It's undignified and stupid, but you can't stop yourself. The ship seems so far away, and its gangplank is extending with such unbearable slowness.  
  
    A pale dot blows off the ship, and for a moment you think it's a piece of paper before your sense of scale adjusts and you realize it's a person. Flying toward you, fast as falling: John.  
  
    You were expecting blue. Though he hasn't been wearing his God Tier getup in any of the pictures he sent you, somehow you were certain he'd be wearing it now. You sort of thought he needed that doofy wind sock hood to fly or something. But he's wearing a white t-shirt and faded gray jeans, and he's barefoot. As if he couldn't even wait long enough to put his shoes on before hurrying to meet you.  
  
    You stop, fearing a collision. He pulls up in a swirl of air, hair and shirt ruffled by the wind, all smiles, and drifts the last little distance upright. You want to reach out and catch him, but against all logic you're not sure until he reaches out to you first. Only when you feel his hands touch your shoulders can you put your own on his waist.  
  
    Oh, he's so _warm_ , he's warm and he's here and he's _real_.  
  
    He settles and lets the wind subside, eyes locked with yours, beaming. When his feet are on the ground he's just a little shorter than you. You can smell his skin and his soap. He's so beautiful you can't stand it.  
  
    "Hi, Karkat," he says, and laughs. It's not the childish giggle you were expecting from the way he types it out. It's a soft, deep chuckle that makes your blood burn. His voice is music.  
  
    "Took you fucking long enough," you say hoarsely. You pull him against you. You feel the breath of another laugh against your lips for a moment, and then you're finally, _finally_ kissing him. And he's kissing back with matching desperation, arms tightening around your neck, hands clutching fistfuls of your shirt.  
  
    His lips are soft and hungry. He nips gently at you with his blunt teeth, surprising at first and then charming, and also hot as hell. The way his back curves under your hands makes you shudder with want. His shirt is so thin, and when he lifts up on his toes to match your height you can feel the muscles of his back tighten. He shoves his hands into your hair, tentatively strokes one of your horns with a fingertip; it doesn't tickle like it should, it's just pure sensation, and you make a choked sound of need. You have to have more or you'll _die_. It's absolutely a life-and-death situation.  
  
    Dimly, the sound of your name reaches you from somewhere-that-isn't-John. You ignore the first few repetitions, but eventually you realize you're going to have to deal with this. With infinite reluctance, you break the kiss and loosen your grip. John's cheeks are flushed, his lips red and wet, his eyes bright. The way he's looking at you -- never mind, you don't care who's talking to you after all.  
  
    "Oh my God, you guys," someone is laughing. Various people are talking. Doesn't matter. Someone puts a hand on your shoulder. You try absently to shrug it off. It comes back.  
  
    With a great application of willpower, you manage to actually look away from John. Everyone is staring at you. " _What_ ," you demand. John laughs and nuzzles into your neck, ignoring your audience.  
  
    Jade rolls her eyes with an indulgent grin. "Get a room," she commands, and paps the both of you upside your heads.  
  
    Your ears pop; you stumble; you're suddenly indoors. She teleported you.  
  
    John clutches you tighter for balance, letting out a startled noise. "Oh! Um. This is my cabin on the ship..."  
  
    Maybe you should pay attention to your surroundings, say something about his living space, but you just _can't_ right now. "John," you say, soft but urgent, "we can thank her later. For now you need to lock the door."  
  
    His eyes are dark and wondering. "Your voice is _so fucking sexy_."  
  
    "Door," you remind him. You don't need Strider deciding to pop in and take pictures.  
  
    John seems to have as much trouble tearing himself away from you as you do letting him go. He hurries to turn the deadbolt. As soon as you hear it click, you pin him against the door to devour his mouth again. His hands burrow under your shirt. You take the hint and strip it off before diving back into the kiss.  
  
    You get a leg between his and press up gently; he gives a demanding whimper and grinds harder, riding your thigh like the pressure is not-enough instead of too much. You know that human bulges can't retract, so they can't be as delicate, but you had no idea they could take this kind of punishment. He's clearly loving it, though, so you take hold of his hips and rock against him. He makes that delicious sound again. Breaks the kiss to gasp for air, then goes for your neck, sucking hard at your skin. Arousal cracks through you like an electric shock. Your own bulge is aching to unsheathe, and if this goes on much longer you won't be able to keep it in.  
  
    It used to seem obscene that humans sleep on what's basically a concupiscent couch, but now it's just convenient. You pull and push each other toward it, fumbling at fastenings, stepping out of your jeans and dropping his shirt. He pushes you down on the bed, but stands back up to finish undressing, glasses askew and hair tousled.  
  
    He's looking down at you as you lie there naked, looking at you like you're the most delicious thing and he's _starving_ , and your already swollen bulge unsheathes pretty much all at once. His eyes widen and his mouth goes O-shaped. "Cool," he breathes.  
  
    Then he drops his underwear on the floor, and his stiff, blunt bulge is staring you in the face. Webcam pictures didn't do it justice. It's as thick at the tip as your bulge at the base, and now you understand why Gamzee hinted that having a human's bulge in your nook might be best left as a kismesis thing.  
  
    Not that that will stop you from trying it. It doesn't matter that there's no mother grub and he's an alien. He's your _matesprit_ and you are going to _pail_ him, goddamnit.  
  
    "Get down here," you command, "or I'll come up and get you."  
  
    The result is a little of both. You twine together, drunk on skin, mouth to mouth and bulge to bulge. Yours curls around his, and though his can't do the same, when he rolls his hips it slides through your bulge's slick grasp in the most amazing way. You explore his beautifully defined back with your hands, drag blunted claws down the groove of his spine to make him shudder. Comb your fingers through his hair and finally feel how soft it is. He touches your horns again, just fingertips at first, then palms, so you can feel his warmth and hear his pulse, completely wrapped up in him.  
  
    Eventually he pulls away a little, just enough to discard his glasses and smile at you. "I love you," he says. "Human-love you and troll-pity you both. And I want to make this super special for you but I kind of don't know what I'm doing even though we talked about it and I can't _wait_ anymore --"  
  
    On one level that makes you a bit nervous, like he's just going to shove his enormous bulge into you and damn the consequences, but that level is firmly outvoted by the level where you're melting with pity for his uncertainty, and also the one where you're so turned on you can hardly see.  
  
    As an answer, you take one of his hands away from tracing fingertip-outlines of your ear and guide it down between your legs, crooking one knee so he can get at you better. He gives a soft, hitched breath as the pads of his fingers slip along the edges of your nook. So lightly. He doesn't mean to tease. He just isn't sure what to do.  
  
    "More," you demand. "I mean. Careful. But more. _God_ \--" It bursts out of you as one of his fingers slides halfway into you.  
  
    "Sorry?"  
  
    "No, _again_!"  
  
    He does it again, and you throw back your head and keen. You didn't even know you could make a noise like that. Your body is burning up. His fingers feel huge. You can hardly control your bulge; it's not gripping him in a neat pulsing spiral anymore, just slobbering all over his bulge, leaving pink streaks on both your stomachs. You know you must look ridiculous, but the deeper that finger gets the less you care.  
  
    "Oh Karkat," he breathes. It sounds like awe. "Oh wow."  
  
    "More!" It's almost a sob. It's not that nothing's ever touched your nook before, it's just that your own fingers never felt like this. He's got a second one in there now, and you're so wet it's going to stain his sheets, and he's looking at you like he's having a religious revelation.  
  
    Your bulge releases his and goes hunting for his nook, even though you know he doesn't have one -- you can't stop -- and then he's pulling away, pulling his fingers out, pushing your bulge gently out of the way. For a moment you don't understand, and you snarl at him, but then he's holding your legs apart and the blunt tip of his bulge is nudging into you.  
  
    "John, _fuck_."  
  
    "Tell me if it's -- if you want --" He can't talk either.  
  
    It hurts a bit, but it doesn't feel like he's damaging you, more like you just need to adjust something, like if you can just... angle your hips like that... and relax like so... and now if he would just _push_...  
  
    And he does, and you see stars.  
  
    You cling together, shuddering, barely moving, both of you breathing rough and hiding your faces in each other's shoulders. He finally has your legs around his waist like he wanted, and you'll be damned if you're going to unlock them before doomsday.  
  
    "Oh shit, John, this is fucking amazing," you breathe.  
  
    "I can't believe we're really --" He breaks off with a choked laugh. "Can I move?"  
  
    "Uh-huh. Just -- _ow_ , wait," you yelp as he suddenly shoves in hard.  
  
    "Sorry! Sorry."  
  
    "You can't, you can't go in that deep, you're too thick, just -- yeah -- oh God yes --" He's not going to be able to get in all the way, it seems, but these shallow strokes still feel better than anything you've ever been able to do to yourself.  
  
    "Karkat, you feel so good," he groans into your neck, "you're so wonderful, God I love you."  
  
    "I pity you so much," you return breathlessly. "You're so fucking precious I can't _stand_ it."  
  
    His fingers suddenly dig harder into your hips, and he cries out, lips smearing wet against your throat. "Yes, yes that's perfect oh!" Your seeking bulge has wrapped around the part of his that can't get into you. It's the last straw for both of you.  
  
    His genetic material is hot, scalding you from within, and it's enough to trigger your internal release as well as external. You sob with pleasure as your nook clamps tight around him. Orgasm shakes your body in waves. At last he falls still, panting, heavy on top of you. You're still trembling with tension. He's done, but you're not; you pity him enough to do this _properly_. You get out your bucket, and it feels heavy with all the meanings it carries, the cultural baggage, the impossibility of actually reproducing with him, all the times you thought you'd never get to use it for anything at all.  
  
    His bed doesn't have a bucket well, and he's gone weak like he warned you he would, so it's up to you to lift the both of you to kneeling. His bulge slips out of you, letting a little of your mingled material waste itself down the inside of your thigh. Whining with urgency and frustration, you wedge the pail under you. He clings to you, helpless and adoring and alien, and you realize his bulge is softening. There's no way it can tease you open again. You're going to have to use your own, shameful as that feels.  
  
    But before you have to resort to that, he remembers how it works and slips a hand between you. Crooks a finger into you just as he did at first.  
  
    "Toward the front," you instruct breathlessly. "Press down a little."  
  
    He does, and your nook spasms, expelling your mingled material into the pail. Groaning relief, you let your head fall on his shoulder as he coaxes every drop out of you. His other hand cradles the back of your neck so tenderly, his exhausted body trembles against yours so pitiably -- it doesn't even matter that his release didn't produce enough fluid to fill you, it's still a perfect moment. When you're done, you don't look at the bucket before captchaloguing it. It'll look like you did it alone, and you want to keep this feeling of having completed a real mating for a while longer.  
  
    You lie down together, sticky and sweaty and satisfied. Holding each other loosely, you drink in each other's faces while your pulse slows and your breath comes back.  
  
    "Was it okay?" he asks at last.  
  
    "It was perfect."  
  
    He chuckles softly. "You don't have to. Our bits aren't really compatible, I know that. I just meant... I didn't hurt you or anything?"  
  
    "John, shut your mouth, you're letting the stupid out," you grin. "It was fucking perfect. _You_. Are fucking perfect. Don't argue."  
  
    Beaming, he snuggles in closer. He nips the point of your ear teasingly, kisses the tip of your noise. "You too. _So_ worth the wait. So um. How long til you can do it again?"  
  
    You let your eyes widen. "Again? We only mate once a sweep, John, I _told_ you that."  
  
    "Oh no," he groans. "Karkat!"  
  
    You can only keep that up for another few seconds before you burst out laughing. "Got you."  
  
    His dismay melts into confusion. "Karkat?"  
  
    "Okay, it's true that I won't produce enough material for a bucket anytime soon, but if you keep lying there all disheveled and pitiable and nibbling on my ears like that, my bulge is going to wake up again within the hour."  
  
    John grins, displaying every blunt white tooth in his joy. "Thank God. I'd planned to spend the whole day in bed with you, and I hate changing my plans."  
  
    "Idiot," you say fondly, and pull him close. "You didn't even greet your friends. They're going to be mad at you if you don't go back soon."  
  
    "They understand." He nuzzles your hair tenderly, hands stroking your back slowly, easily, like he never intends to stop. "They're glad for us. Can't you tell? Everyone's glad for us. You're always wound so tight, you worry them -- they're your friends too, Karkat. They want you to be happy."  
  
    "Enough," you grumble, pleased. "Sentimental glurge."  
  
    "Mhm," he chuckles.  
  
    When you realize you're contentment-vibrating, you try to stop, but it keeps starting again. You wait for him to laugh at you. He doesn't, though. He only sighs as if he's every bit as contented. It gradually erodes the last of your dignity until you can't even try to keep your next thought from tumbling out your mouth:  
  
    "Even if I can't go with you into your prize universe, I think I'll always be just a little bit happy because I have this to remember."  
  
    "Karkat, no," he breathes, voice aching with pity. "You dummy. I'd never leave you behind. If the game won't let us go together, I'll find a new way to break it. I'll keep kicking this stupid game's ass until it gives up trying to keep us apart. But I think it already did give up on that," he adds more cheerfully. "Because here we are."  
  
    Somehow, you find you believe him. You're joined by both troll fate and human fate, matesprits and lovers, and wherever your adventure takes you from now on, you'll go there together.  
  
\- end -


End file.
